


Glass Half Something

by celli



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_flashfic, M/M, PWP, challenge: abandonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your crises always take forever, and it's hard to type naked."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Half Something

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://deannie.livejournal.com/profile)[**deannie**](http://deannie.livejournal.com/) for the beta and [](http://out-there.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://out-there.livejournal.com/)**out_there** for the inspiration.

"I could hear you grumbling down the hall," Rodney said without looking up from his laptop.

John really wished the living quarter doors could slam. It would be so much more satisfying. "You couldn't hear me grumbling. It's all soundproofed."

"So you don't deny the grumbling."

"Of course I grumbled. It was stupid. Why is it that people always say something's a crisis when it's not?"

"And then when something's really critical, all you get from them is 'maybe if we leave it alone, it'll go away' and ten minutes later things start blowing up. I don't get it either."

"People suck." John struggled out of his boots--they'd come off easily enough if he sat down, but he didn't feel like it--and chucked them into a corner. "And you got dressed again."

"What? I put my boxers on, how dressed is that? And you left."

John rolled his eyes. "Pessimist. It's not like I abandoned you for another hot physicist. Crisis, remember?"

"The line between pessimist and realist is very subjective. Your crises always take forever, and it's hard to type naked."

"You want realism? Put the laptop down and I'll show you some realism."

"Funny how that sounds threatening, not sexy." Rodney set the laptop carefully on the floor, then crossed his arms and stared up at John, looking about as interested as he might be in a rousing game of badminton.

John knew a challenge when he saw one. He barely managed to keep himself from grinning as he stripped his shirt off. Rodney's eyes flickered, but his arms stayed firmly crossed.

The bed was only a few steps away, and John clambered on, straddling Rodney's legs. He leaned forward to kiss him; Rodney gave up the pretense almost instantly and kissed him back, although he kept his arms in place.

John retaliated by ignoring his upper body completely and exploring Rodney's legs and hips.

"Nothing stopping you from taking those off, you know," Rodney said as John traced his fingernails along the seam of Rodney's boxer shorts.

"But you went to so much trouble to put them on," John said, still not grinning even as he looked up and caught Rodney rolling his eyes.

"Really, it's no...ah..." Rodney's voice wavered a bit as John slid his hands inside the shorts and started moving up. "No trouble at all."

Fortunately the boxers were old and stretched (they had yet to find a Hanes retailer in the Pegasus galaxy). John got one hand all the way up and found Rodney's dick more than happy to meet it. Rodney's head fell back, and he said something that was either "Thank God" or "that's odd." John really didn't care either way; he was starting to have fun.

No matter how old, the fabric only stretched so far, and whatever Rodney was saying to himself up there was increasingly frantic as he bucked against John's hand, trying to get more or faster or just _out_. His hands, after some flailing, were tugging at John's shoulders. John let himself be dragged in until his mouth was close enough to make Rodney moan. Then he changed course and licked Rodney's stomach.

Rodney hit him on the back of the head.

John just laughed into his skin and found a spot near his bellybutton to suck on.

It probably seemed like forever to Rodney, but John wasn't mean--usually--so he worked another hand up the back of Rodney's shorts. They would never be wearable again, but nothing ripped, and Rodney came with gratifying force.

John got away with wiping his hands on Rodney's knee because the man was too busy blinking at the ceiling to notice. John smirked and flopped down across the end of the bed.

He started to slide one hand down his own pants, but a sleepy "hey" from past his feet stopped him. After a second Rodney crawled his way up John's legs. "Wait for me, there." He started on the buttons of John's uniform pants.

"You looked a little distracted. I didn't want to interfere with your afterglow."

"Whatever." Then Rodney got John's pants open enough to reveal his complete lack of underwear. "Ha."

"What?" John crossed his arms and tried not to look down.

"Optimist."


End file.
